


I can treat this!

by zetsubou69



Category: Black Panther (2018), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Protective Tony Stark, Sass, no beta we die like men, the magical power of science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubou69/pseuds/zetsubou69
Summary: Stephen Stranges makes some unlikely friends.





	I can treat this!

Stephen Strange was many things but one of them certainly was _not fond of children_. He simply had no patience when it came to taking care of them, babysitting, or answering their repetitive misplaced whys. As he aged, he learned a bit of patience, but he still wouldn’t exchange his books for children anytime soon, nor later despite what some well-meaning voices insisted on.

All intentions aside, his plans to avoid any under-aged person, or most people in general lately, had been thwarted by a teenager dressed in red and blue spandex suit flying through his window. Fortunately, he flew through the open one, so there was no serious clean up necessary. 

However, a person flying through a window on the top floor of the Sanctum sparked some very fast defensive actions. Stephen had the intruder in magic ropes faster than they could recuperate.

“Who are you?” Stephen asked just as the lithe person looked back at him and exclaimed in awe, “you’re a wizard!” 

And that’s how Doctor Stephen Strange met the friendly neighbourhood Spider-man, an anonymous teenager in an obviously Stark-made suit.

After establishing that neither is a villain and they both serve the Light Side of the Force, he ended up serving the teenager a cup of tea. It turned out that the fall wasn’t caused by no fight but simply by reading texts mid-swings; particularly a text about an upcoming biology exam. All after thoroughly quizzing Stephen about Magic 101. Yes, it exists, no, there there’s no Hogwarts, no, I won’t teach you. 

Next exclamation of surprise came when Spider-man noticed an old edition of a textbook on his shelf.

“Hey, could I borrow this book? I have this chemistry quiz next week and I heard this old textbook is pretty fine, except all copies in our school library are on the loan right now,” he rambled and waved his hands. Stephen just nodded in defeat. He was not in a mood to tutor anyone, but he could lend someone his old books.

“There might be some scribbles in the margins, but otherwise the chemistry basics haven’t changed that much in the last two decades.”

“So, it’s two decades since you’ve been at university? Wow, I mean, I know you’re old but I didn’t think you’re this old!”

Stephen looked at the teenager wearily.

“One more word and you’re flying out of here the same way you flew in,” he warned with no real threat sounding in his words. 

Spiderman mimed zipping his mouth shut and reached for the textbook.

“Thanks a lot, man, I promise I’ll bring it back by the end of the month!”

And so they struck quite unlikely friendship in which Stephen barely tolerated a very young and chatty individual and in return, he got called old, had someone drag him out occasionally for a hot dog or a churro, and told him all the gossip he missed out whenever he was in a different dimension.

*

A few weeks later the doorbell of 221 Bleeker Street rang. 

Which was ultimately surprising, since Peter always knocked on the windows, as if allergic to using a door, and Wong, well, he used portals. 

Stephen waved his hand to look like a common civilian instead of just man-returned-from-Khamar-Taj and went to open the door.

There was an orange car parked in front of the house and a man with a very specific facial hair and very nice suite standing at the door.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Strange,” no other than Tony Stark greeted him. “May I have a few minutes of your time?”

“Good afternoon, Dr Stark,” Stephen greeted him in return. Just because he had ego and PhD, didn’t mean he had absolutely no manners. He invited Stark into the privacy of the entrance hall provided.

Seeing the hostility in Stark's face he also prompted the interrogation he suspected to come.

“What do you want?” Stephen asked with no preamble.

“I just have few questions to ask you, Dr Strange.”

“I’m afraid I do not practise medicine anymore.”

“My questions don’t concern medicine at all. A few weeks ago, you’ve had a certain individual pop in. He’s quite fascinated by your very unique knowledge. He says he’s got a standing invitation and that he’s already spent some time with you. What do you want with him?”

Ah, so it seemed that not only was Stark outfitting Spiderman, he was emotionally involved in what he perceived as Spiderman's well-being. But that didn’t excuse Stark’s frankness.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What individual should want to keep the company of an ex-neurosurgeon? I’m afraid there’s not much medical treatment I can provide nowadays.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Strange. He’s been waxing poetry about each of your meetings. He told me who you are. I did some digging too. You look like a good guy, but I need to know that the kid is safe here. And since you’re quite the ghost of yourself nowadays, I thought I’d rather check in person.”

That made Stephen a pause.

“Very well. Peter’s very smart young individual and although he might have stumbled here by absolute accident, all he received here is just a few books, some nourishment, and a little bit of enlightenment. This is a house dedicated to the protection and no harm shall befall him here while I stand watch,” he said solemnly.

Stark stared at him for a little longer, then he nodded.

“Thank you. The kid’s been through enough, so I’m glad he’s got you on speed dial now too. Hopefully, if he divides his time between books and science he won’t have any energy for vigilantee-ing left,” Stark grinned widely, all traces of hostility gone, now replaced with a tone Stephen had only heard before, when two parents discussed their children together.

“That sounds improbable, but one might hope,” Stephen nodded in assent.

As he listened to the roar of engine leaving the street, he wondered if this was a too extraordinary way of getting a joint-custody of a child.

*

“So, what do you do when you’re not saving the world from supernatural threats?” Peter asked one very lazy afternoon. He was supposed to be working on his history essay but Stephen couldn’t judge him for being too easily distracted in the Sanctum. They might have all the necessary books, but those books also included some quite obscure knowledge usually inaccessible to outsiders and the boy was soaking up knowledge like a sponge, with the advantage of keeping his moral filters fully functional. Unlike some previous readers of these tomes. 

“I mean, studying the 4th century China’s history is certainly interesting but I guess it can’t occupy you full time, right? You do have hobbies, don’t you? I’d be really disappointed if you were one of the super boring old people with zero hobbies.”

Stephen sighed.

“Do I seem to you like a person, who has zero hobbies?”

Peter just gave him a look.

“You’re an adulating adult, so…”

Stephen quickly prompted him to keep his silence and not to comment further.

Then he took Peter to the cinema to watch the new Star Wars film and consume excessive amounts of popcorn.

And they just occupied each other’s space sometimes like two buddies. It was always great that he sometimes made Wong new Spotify playlists the sorcerer could enjoy.

*

Months flew by, with Peter’s occasional visits that they would spend talking about usual teenage stuff and magic and superheroing, so their outing became a pretty common thing, thus he never thought twice when the kid appeared at the Sanctum. 

Until Peter asked one very personal question.

“So, you being the sorcerer almighty, what’s the deal with your hands? I read an old newspaper and they said that you had some nasty car crash. But I saw you doing weird stuff, so is there some reason you don’t heal yourself?”

Stephen stilled. It wasn’t that he didn’t have an answer, or that he hasn’t moved on from that. But some things kept on stinging.

“There are limits to what magic can do. If I were to spend everything trying to pretend my body hasn’t been damaged, I wouldn’t do much else,” he reluctantly answered. He believed in speaking openly and honestly with the teenager, as much as he would with any adult he trusted. And it did pay out since Peter showed his high emotional intelligence by letting it go, or so Stephen thought.

Because the very next day, Peter brought a friend with him. 

*

Much to Stephen’s surprise it wasn’t either of his high school cronies (about whom Peter babbled endlessly, which was not very endearing, but fortunately Stephen knew how to divide his attention), but a young black lady dressed in bright coloured clothes –a common feature among any group of teenagers- and –thing more than rare in America- vibranium jewellery.

“Princess Shuri,” Stephen greeted her with a mild bow. No matter the surprise he used to be a famous neurosurgeon and no such thing as an unexpected visit by a member of royalty could make him ignore all protocol. Only perhaps ninety-nine percent of it, this was no Queen of England anyway.

“Doctor Strange, pleasure to meet you. When Peter told me he knows a wizard I did not expect to meet a neurosurgeon instead.”

“Sorcerer Supreme. But at least he’s not calling me Harry Potter references.”

“Oh, he is. When he can get away with it.”

She came to learn. Not the details of practical sorcery, but the theoretical parts and all the things an untrained person can learn, because there was simply no time for full training in her full schedule.

And so he taught her. He showed her wonders and magic, just to hear her and Peter laugh or gasp in awe, because how often do you get a chance to impress a royalty? 

And she was smart. He suspected she might be even smarter than he and Stark combined with how her eyes shone, taking in every detail, processing it, then asking just the right questions to make it fit into the bigger world. 

Yet, what made him speechless was they moment Peter ran off to get something to eat and she took his scarred hands, years after he made his peace that no magic or science shall change that aspect of him, and she said:

“I can treat that.”

And with science, she did. 


End file.
